


First Impressions

by MerKat



Series: MerKat RPs [22]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha!Sherlock, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, BAMF!John, Begging, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bonding, Claiming, Cuddles, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Knotting, Licking, Light Angst, Light Angst and Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!John, Omegaverse, Possessive Behaviour, Possessive!Sherlock, Protective!Sherlock, Rimming, Teasing, Topping from the Bottom, beta!Mycroft - Freeform, bottom!John, feral!Sherlock, insecure!Joh, light Violence, prince!John, top!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2344901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerKat/pseuds/MerKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John comes home to find a beta and his alpha brother asking to purchase him for mating and breeding, the omega is the first to say ‘yes’. Even a stranger is better than living under his father’s roof for another second.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions

John Watson was still on the tipsy side of things as he made his way back to the piss-poor hovel that passed for home. Once, the Watsons had been great, had held a title. But between Grandfather and his own Father, there was virtually nothing left. Whatever his father earned was drunk and gambled away as soon as he made it. John wasn’t doing much better these days. He’d wanted to go to school, but that would have been a 'waste', apparently, so instead he was following his father’s footsteps in the drinking and gambling department. No wonder Mum had taken his sister and left. But not him. She didn’t have any use for an omega either. Father kept threatening to marry him off, but so far that hadn’t happened and he no longer believed the threat.

So here he was, coming home after a week and a half or so. He lost track of the days sometimes. John really didn’t care any more. This was probably the only life he’d ever have. The door was unlocked as he turned the handle; well not like they had anything worth stealing. He glanced in the small hall mirror and saw his blonde hair was sticking every which way, his shirt was wrinkled and dirty... and that might have been a bit of blood on it. Shrugging he headed for the kitchen as his stomach rumbled (that was nearly the only thing that would send him back home). It took a moment to register unknown voices in the tiny room they considered the parlor. Curious, he veered his course, lost his balance and stumbled into the room.

The voices stopped immediately. Father looked at him angrily, but that was normal. The other two men looked far too posh to be in this neighborhood. The older one was sitting ramrod straight across from Father and had turned his head to eye him with a slight curl to his lip. The younger one had been slouched in the chair but he’d sat up and was looking John over a bit too much like the way the butcher looked over a slab of meat he was deciding where to start cutting.

So this was the omega Mycroft wanted to marry him to? Annoying. Annoying to have to get an omega anyway. But this one... Sherlock's gaze was painstakingly critical as he took in the mussed hair, the split lip and hint of a bruise on the cheek, the disheveled clothes. And the dirt. The dirt was everywhere. The signs of alcohol abuse and gambling and fighting were so glaring, a sign that the apple does not fall far from the tree, and the father's own signs of the same thing were even more prevalent than his son's. He understood Mycroft's desire for the title the Watsons still clung to, but did he really expect to gain anything from this arrangement? How was he so sure this omega (he'd ignored the bit of the conversation regarding names) wouldn't gamble and drink the Holmes house into the ground like his father and his grandfather before him? Suddenly, the omega's posture stiffened and hardened, despite his obviously impaired faculties, and he kept the posture surprisingly well.

"Johnnie, this is Master Holmes," growled his father, barely keeping his temper in check. "We're arrangin' you a marriage."

"I see," said John stiffly. "If you'll excuse me, I'll just get cleaned up." He turned on his heel without being dismissed, hearing his father make excuses behind him.

By the time he got to his room he was trembling. Well, anything had to better than here, even if it was bound to an alpha he didn't know. Quickly, he stripped and scrubbed perfunctorily before reaching into the back off his broken wardrobe. On one of his few successful gambling binges, he'd made enough to buy this outfit and had carefully hidden it from Father. He changed into it now, fixing his hair the best he could before heading back to the parlor.

"Master Holmes," he said, bowing before the alpha and beta.

"You steal that, Johnnie?" Father muttered under his breath.

‘Johnnie’, though the other young man flinching when that name was used indicated extreme dislike, perhaps even fear or hatred, for it, had made as much an effort as he could in the little time he’d had had to make himself as presentable to a potential mate, to Sherlock, as possible. His skin, where visible, was pinkened and clear of blood and dirt, and his hair mussed as if he’d just woken (or just had a tumble, the alpha’s mind added). If the other alpha weren’t so blinded by his own obvious bias against his own son, it would have been more than clear that what the omega was wearing now was bespoke, and would fit no other as well as it fit the small man.

Though John was a male, he was also an omega, and genetics lent him a grace that wouldn’t have been possible on an alpha or a beta of his height and build. That grace, which had been hidden by the alpha-like walk when the rugged omega had walked in, was on full display now, emphasised by flowing fabric in a dark red that complimented the tanned skin and sun-lightened hair. It was not by any means a well-made fabric, but what it must have cost would have been put into the quality of the dye, not just eye catching, but _taunting_. It seemed even in a show of submissiveness, the omega couldn’t help but issue a challenge, and it was _that_ that made the omega he didn’t actually want _interesting_.

John noticed the alpha watching him. His instincts were to take a fighting stance, challenge the presumption. But he needed to make a good impression here. This might be his only chance to escape. So after a moment of struggle he relaxed himself, fetching the kettle and the good tea service, since Father hadn’t bothered. He never was good at the rare company they had. Besides, serving the visitors was omega work. He presented the two with the best cups and then stood back, as he hadn’t been given permission to sit. The alpha’s eyes never left him. John looked right back. At least he was close to the same age, a bit thin, but those pale eyes spoke of intelligence.

“So what do you think, Master Holmes?” Father leaned forward a bit. “My Johnnie would serve your purpose, yeah? He ain’t been bred.”

It was impossible for Mycroft not to notice the way the young omega man tensed at the words, the straightening of his shoulders oddly reminiscent of the way guards stood to attention at muster. Quite curious. It was equally impossible to miss all the signs of brawls the youth had participated in, rather unusual for an omega, much less one with a title, no matter how diminished. But perhaps most interesting of all was the way his baby brother’s eyes tracked the motion intensely.

Sherlock had always claimed lack of interest in an omega. Or any partner. But something about the omega on the other side of the room was interesting to his brother, and Mycroft had a good idea what.

“Yes, I do believe he is exactly what I am looking for,” the older Holmes replied.

“Alright then. When are you taking him?” They had already discussed payment before John’s ungraceful entrance.

John’s heart skipped in his chest. With any luck, they’d take him now and he’d never have to look at this place again.

"We will be taking John now," Mycroft replied, noting the surprise in the omega's eyes at the use of his proper name. “John, please go pack whatever you may wish to carry with you. We shall send servants for the remainder of your belongings.”

As the omega bowed and darted away, Sherlock felt a feeling ignite in his chest. He frowned, unable to determine what exactly it was, but not able to ignore the fact that it started as soon as Mycroft laid claim to John. As he contemplated it, the father got out of his chair and stalked out of the room, feet stomping heavily on the stairs. The sole interaction he’d witnessed between father and son did not indicate that this would go well, and his brother was already walking towards the stairs when he decided to follow.

John heard his father’s footsteps on the stairs as he threw his few belongings into a bag. He wasn’t taking much with him anyway. He had one of the few mementos of his mother in his hand when Father entered. He slapped the small figurine out of his hand, sending it shattering against the floor. As John gasped, his father grabbed his arm and twisted it. “You best behave, boy. And you better breed for them. It’s the only thing you’re good for, after all.”

Now Sherlock recognised the feeling in his chest. Not because he’d felt it before, but because he’d heard and read descriptors often enough. The sight of the omega his brother had accepted, the omega his alpha side had accepted, being shoved against a wall with his arm twisted behind his back and bare feet amongst porcelain shards made rage burn hot in his chest. However, he was loathe to actually act on the feeling. Following Mycroft up the stairs had been merely so he could sate his curiosity, but if he interfered now, his alpha side would lay claim to the omega, and Sherlock had never wanted an omega.

Mycroft gave his younger brother a long moment to interfere, hoping whatever interest he had in the young man would force his hand into accepting John. When Sherlock gave no indication that he would move, the beta stepped forward, raising the cane he always kept on his person to heavily tap the older alpha’s head. The man flinched heavily and jerked back from his son, pain clear on his face as he eyed Mycroft’s cane. Deceptive thing, what with it’s delicate design and the easy way he carried it; no one could guess it contained a rapier.

“John is no longer of any concern to you, Master Watson,” Mycroft said, voice light. “Do not touch him or speak to him again.”

Father eyed the Holmeses, but he stepped further back. John quickly threw on his best shoes, ignoring the small cuts on his feet and the ache in his shoulder. “This is all I have, there’s nothing else I need here.” He squared his shoulders and didn’t look back at his Father or the house as they left.

A fine carriage was waiting around the corner for them. John’s feet hurt more as he walked, but he ignored it. A footman got the door and he was gestured in first. He sat in the corner. The alpha was seated next to him and the beta across. This was already more luxury than he’d ever seen in his life. He swallowed hard and kept his small bag in his lap with his hands, as if touching anything else would sully it.

“I’ll do whatever you need, sirs,” he said carefully. He was scared, but fear was an everyday companion anyway. Even if they beat him, it wouldn’t be any different than what he had left behind. And these people didn’t seem like the kind to do that. The alpha was watching him out of the corner of his eye. There was disdain there. Of course there was. He knew full well he was only being taken for his title. “I should be having my heat in about a week.”

Sherlock turned his head from the omega at his side and looked out the window, attempting to prepare himself for the long, tedious ride ahead. He would be forced to endure John’s scent for an extended amount of time, something he knew was likely Mycroft’s motive for forcing him along on this dreadfully boring trip. It would be a test of will to see if he could ignore his less logical side and keep it from imprinting upon a biologically suitable mate sitting so close that the warmth of the smaller man’s body threatened to sear him through his clothes. And of course the omega had mentioned his upcoming heat, most likely another reason his brother had set his eyes upon the remains of the Watson house.

“I can understand if you would prefer to wait until your next heat to bond. We would gladly give you time to adjust to your new house,” Mycroft offered when it became clear his brother was going to do nothing but sulk in the corner. His posture was still fit for public, but no doubt, any moment now, he was going to curl up in the corner and ignore them all for the two day ride back home.

"I don't mind mating now," said John quietly, glancing at the alpha. He could smell him, but clearly he had no interest. If they bonded at all, it would be only for his alpha’s family's sake. Oh well; better a loveless marriage than one more night in his father's house. John Watson was used to being lonely. Perhaps they'd produce a child he could take comfort in. At least until they were sent off to school. He’d never had the chance to go himself, so if it was in his means, he’d see that they got the best education available. And it seemed these Holmses had the money to make that happen.

Mycroft could see the lack of resistance in the omega. The smaller man glanced once more at Sherlock before giving a resigned sigh and looking out the opposite window, shifting slightly in the no-doubt unfamiliar clothes. Reaching under the seat, Mycroft produced a basket and took out a cold lunch, offering it to John.

"Thank you," said John politely, eating slowly even though he was clearly hungry.

As much as Sherlock did not want to notice anything John was doing, it was impossible not to. There was nothing else to notice. And the omega was eating curiously slow, taking tiny bites and chewing slower than the alpha thought anyone capable. It took him nearly a mile to eat the cold mutton and bread roll, and when he finished, he took a slow, deep breath before murmuring another gratitude and turning back to look out the window. Sherlock found himself unable to look away. The omega was fairly plain, compared to others that had been paraded in front of him in the past, and yet, he’d never been presented with an omega that interested him as much as this one did. Was it the clearly strong will underneath the ploy of submission? The set of his shoulders? The evidence of lifelong abuse and yet he still has not broken? Sherlock had never enjoyed the submissiveness of omegas. It made them frustrating to deal with in his work. It was one of the reasons he never wanted one. If he ever took a partner, they would need to think for themselves; he had no interest in doing it for them.

The trip was long. In some ways John was glad; the further they got from his father, the better. He napped at one point, but the silence in the carriage was nearly stifling. Still, he wasn’t going to break it. The beta took some paperwork out after a while. John made no attempt to peek at what he was doing. He wished he’d at least had a book or something, not that he could read well. Instead he waited and looked out at the passing scenery. Sometimes he’d glance at the alpha and sometimes he was sure the alpha was looking at him.

Finally they stopped for the night. John was helped out, though he quickly stepped away from the footman and stretched his legs. They were in some small village and in front of an inn. Warm light spilled out into the road and he wondered what they would do about sleeping arrangements. The alpha continued to ignore him as the beta gave some quick instructions before leading the way inside.

“Sherlock, please feed our guest” Mycroft instructed absently, ignoring the glare sent his way. “I will see to sleeping arrangements.” He did not give Sherlock a chance to object as he walked away, considering where who would sleep. He was still unsure of whether or not John was truly inclined to stay. If he was not, he could not be trusted to room alone, nor could he be trusted to room with his alpha, as Sherlock would just as likely let him as he would assist him. Nor could he allow Sherlock to room alone as he would be just as likely to run away as John. However, the omega had remained with his father for seventeen years without attempting escape, and indication thus far indicated that the omega felt safe with them. There was also the fact to consider that the more time the couple spent together, the more likely they would be to imprint on one another. Decision made, he strolled confidently towards the front desk.

Sherlock didn’t bother looking at John as he followed the signs to the dining room. He equally ignored the maidservant when she attempted to direct them to a seat and stalked towards an open corner seat, sprawling in the wide wall seat and leaving the omega to pull his own chair. He was shot a glare and he sneered in return. He did _not want an omega_. John would do well to remember that. The barmaid swept by, depositing an ale in front of him and, after a sniff towards the omega, one that had him feeling absurdly possessive, dropped a mug of water in front of John. John glared at her and twitched as if he were stopping himself from going after her. After a moment, Sherlock sat up and swapped their mugs.

John looked at him, then switched them back. He was irritated after the long ride as it was, alpha attitude didn’t help. “I don’t need your pity,” he spat. “I know you don’t want me, that you’re only here because of your brother and your family. And I’m here because you’re my one chance at something better. I don’t expect you to care one bit about me, especially considering you won’t hardly look at me. I assure you I will do my best to stay out of your way.” He sipped the water and glared at the table. Maybe it was dangerous to talk to his alpha this way, but if they were going to be bonded soon, might as well clear the air now and set expectations.

Sherlock blinked, the only show of surprise on his face at the outburst. He had expected the omega to be at least appreciative of his consideration. He hadn't expected this pride. Though he should have. It was all over John's posture.

"You are quite right," he agreed, startling the other man with the sound of his voice. "I am only taking a mate because Mycroft has stated it a condition of the freedoms I enjoy. He believes having someone at home will make me more inclined to be safer in the course of my investigations." His anger at the other man's selfishness was building low in his chest and growing with every word. "You may be gaining your freedom in this mating, but I am losing mine. It is trading one shackle for another, and I do not appreciate being caged. My pity is one thing you shall never have." His voice was nearly a growl when he was done and he stood up quick enough to rock the sturdy wood table. Bright blue eyes stared up at him in wide surprise, and Sherlock ignored the strange feeling in his chest at the insult he had just delivered the omega that was to be his, but the primary source of his fury was approaching and the alpha whirled away, striding through the crowd and back out the front doors.

John looked at the beta, then got to his feet, following his alpha. “Sherlock,” he called, trying to catch up to the long legs. “We don’t even know each other.” Had he already ruined any chance he had? “So neither of us asked for this. Does that mean you hate me already or will you at least give me an opportunity to know you? What do you do that your brother wishes to stop you from doing?” He doubted it could be anything worse than his father’s drinking and gambling. In his haste, he snagged his new trousers on some thorns. He pulled away, and felt the rip. Tears stung his eyes as he looked at the damage to the one nice thing he’d ever owned. And it appeared Sherlock was still walking away from him. Why was he even bothering to try? All of his father’s words about being useless, and worse, an omega, seemed to descend on his shoulders. He sagged and let his head drop, figuring he’d just go back and at least accept the meal. He should know better than to reach for happiness.

The sharp tang of salt water, of tears, on the air hit the alpha suddenly, tainted by the scent of his omega and his steady footfalls hitched. Then he stopped entirely, a mounted man barely avoiding trampling Sherlock with his horse, shouting profanities at the alpha as he moved around. He ignored the stranger, spinning where he stood and critically eyeing the new, lowered set to John’s shoulders and the bowed blond head. He had called the other young man selfish, and yet, he was doing the same. Normally, he did not care if he was being a hypocrite, but he had never been tasked with the health and care of another before. Perhaps John was as trapped as Sherlock was. After all, the omega had clearly not been born to a stable household, either financially or emotionally, and as far as he was likely concerned, even if Sherlock was as bad as his father, it would still be a change of pace. Perhaps John was just exchanging one shackle for another as well. Perhaps... perhaps they could work their shackles together.

“John,” he called. The other man froze, turning towards him slowly, and Sherlock realised it was the first time he had addressed the omega by name. His eyes stuck on the leg John seemed to be favouriting and he noticed a tear in the fabric. Tan fingers were clutching tightly at that leg, almost protectively, and Sherlock wondered how many expensive things the omega had ever owned in his life. Indications were that this was the first. He strode forward quickly, pleased when the other didn’t move away, and he stopped right in front of him, gazing down into cautious eyes. “I... apologise.” It was a strange word in his mouth, but necessary if he wanted to make this in any way an easy partnership. “I had not considered the impact this arrangement may have on you.”

John studied his face, hardly daring to hope. Finally he cracked a small smile. "Thank you. Perhaps you could tell me about yourself?"

Despite himself, Sherlock felt himself returning the omega’s smile as he took slow steps back towards the inn. Mycroft would have food ready and no doubt John had not been filled by the snack hours ago. From the way he had eaten it, it was clear that he was used to small meals at infrequent times, and once again, the alpha side of Sherlock sparked with anger at the thought of such mistreatment and made him burn with a need to care for the omega at his side. “I solve mysteries,” he finally said. “When a crime is committed and the officials are unable to solve it, which is always, they send for me.”

"That sounds fascinating," said John sincerely. If he dealt with a criminal element that would certainly explain his brother's worry. He tried to think of something good he could say about himself. "I sometimes helped an old disgraced doctor," he admitted. "Learned a bit from him. Father said sending me to school would have been a waste."

There was a wistful quality to the other man's voice that was difficult to ignore, but pleasant to listen to. Knowledge was not much valued and it was rare to see someone who wanted more. "If it is something you still desire, I'm sure Mycroft knows of every tutor in the city. It would be of no consequence to employ one."

Biting his lip, John blushed. "I'm not too old for that?" It was a tantalizing idea. He was embarrassed to think of his level of education next to this obviously intelligent alpha.

They were almost inside the building again and there's firelight spilling out from the open heavy wood doors, casting shadows and light in equal measure across John's reddened face. Sherlock simply stared at him for a long moment. "You are never to old to learn. Your desire to do so is more than most scholars can claim."

John's smile turned warmer. "Thank you." He had the urge to take the alpha's hand, but ignored it. Walking close by his side was okay though. And Sherlock smelled better than any other alpha had. The beta had left, a room key and dinner on the table.

There was food enough on the table for both of them, but as usual, Sherlock wasn’t hungry. As John ate, the alpha subtly pushed food around his own plate before discreetly pushing it towards the other, an annoying part of himself pleased at being able to provide for his omega. John slowly ate it all, never seeming to notice that none of the food on the table was going into Sherlock’s mouth. Finally, the fork was set down and John sat back looking calm and relaxed for the first time that day. Silently, the alpha stood, offering his promised his arm without a thought, unsure if he wanted John to accept.

John took his arm, feeling much better about his prospects then he had only a short time before. They walked across the dining room towards the stairs. For the first time in a long time, John felt safe. Sherlock unlocked the door and opened it to reveal two beds and Sherlock’s luggage. The alpha let go of John’s arm to check his bag. John perched on the edge of one of the beds. “Is it a long journey to your home still?” He was wondering if he might be able to get something to read.

“Another day’s travel,” Sherlock replied absently as he tugged apart articles of clothing and shuffled around books. Finally, he located his pipe and the small satchel with it and began packing the bowl-shaped end with leaves. He stuck a tiny flame and ignited the foliage, puffing a few times and letting the feeling seep into his veins. He moved over to the unoccupied bed and threw himself down, adopting his typical recline as he smoked. He had known the reason for their travels so far from home, but he had not expected to meet an omega like John. It was... a fair amount to categorise.

The sweet smell was easy to recognize for John, who had spent so much time in and around the streets. Opium dens were fairly plentiful, though he’d avoided the stuff himself. He watched the sharp-minded alpha relax into the pillows. Well, at least it wasn’t excessive drink.

After a few minutes of fidgeting, he went to relieve himself. When he returned there was a nightshirt on the bed and a small trunk at the foot of the bed. Mycroft, probably. Sherlock looked as if he hadn’t moved. Not caring about modesty, especially if he was going to be mating in a week or so, he stripped out of his clothes to put on the nightshirt, sighing at the tear in his trousers before putting them away and climbing up to crawl between the sheets.

Sherlock had yet to open his eyes, but he could hear John’s discontent in his sigh. There was a long quiet moment and then a sound as if skin was sliding over smooth fabric. The omega’s courting outfit, the one with the tear. “There are skilled seamstresses at home. We can have them see to that when we return.”

“You don’t need to bother. It was probably a frivolous purchase.” John settled under the blankets. “I know I botched my first impression,” he said quietly. “But thank you for taking me anyway.” He rolled over to face the wall, closing his eyes to give silent prayers.

Some time later he woke with a start, tangled in the covers, heart beating fast. A nightmare. Oncoming heat and trying to get to safety and every alpha looking like he was theirs to claim. He scrubbed his face with the heels of his hands, hoping he hadn’t disturbed Sherlock.

The scent of his omega's fear on the air was making Sherlock's body outside of his control. Logically, he knew John was safe in bed and thusly, must be having a nightmare, but the animal part of his brain had already lain claim. The alpha's body began to exude pheromones in excess, the scent of 'safe' and 'protected' flooding the air even as he kept his body supine on his bed.

John raised his head. Sherlock seemed unmoved, but he was sending him calm. Biting his lip, the omega sat up. “May I join you?” he asked. It had been a very long time indeed since he’d found comfort in someone’s arms. The doctor had occasionally bequeathed him a hug, but there had been precious little human affection in his life, and he found himself craving it. Sherlock was tantalizingly close, but he wouldn’t draw nearer without permission.

“I have never taken a bed partner,” the alpha informed lightly, rather sure that that was pertinent information. He considered the fact that they should have scented each other upon meeting, and that that particular step had been skipped during the proceedings. “I have also never scented another.” There was the sound of fabric, but rather than moving towards him, it moved away. He considered what he had thought as opposed to actually said aloud. Perhaps his words had been misconstrued. “Come here,” he commanded, rolling on to his side and making room on the bed.

John swallowed and crossed to his bed. He still smelled sweet and something very _alpha_. "I have not either," he said quietly as he slipped between the sheets. "I've always guarded myself closely." And he had the scars to prove it. Alphas that thought he'd be easy prey. There was a particularly bad scar on his shoulder that was how he'd met the Doctor in the first place. Looking at his alpha in the dim light, he offered his throat, heart still beating fast.

Cautiously, as much for himself as for John, Sherlock leaned over the omega, dropping his head to run his nose across the bared throat. He’d smelled omegas up close before, but perhaps it was because this one was his, or perhaps because of John himself, but the scent was intoxicating. He wanted nothing more than trap the other young man between his body and the bed, to run his tongue up the tempting neck, to take that scent onto his tongue. He abstained and completed the scenting before tilting his head for the action to be returned.

John leaned into Sherlock, copying the motion. His body was definitely reacting to the alpha, making him want to moan and offer himself. It didn't matter how short or long they'd known each other; this was the only alpha he ever wanted. "Sherlock," he whispered as he slowly pulled away, moving onto his back and finding the other's hand under the blanket.

His omega’s scent fresh in his nose and the heat of him along his left side was making him drowsy, despite the lack of room on the shared bed and the fact that they were both laying on their backs. John’s breathing slowed again as he fell back into sleep, and as his grip on Sherlock’s hand slackened, the alpha’s own fingers tightened, that feeling from before taking over him again and preventing the loss of contact. There was a strange comfort in having his mate-to-be laid out along his left side, leaving his more dominant right side open to repel any attacks to his omega if needed. He was unsure if he liked these changes. Sherlock’s head dropped to the side where his pipe was on the side table. The urge to smoke kept rising, but it never surpassed the desire to keep John’s hand in his.

**.oOo.**

John woke early out of habit. His alpha seemed to be dozing lightly. Here in the morning light he could study the pale features and look at the long, elegant fingers. He wanted to take care of this man, he realized. And his sleep had been dreamless with him by his side. Quietly, he got out of bed and looked in the trunk, choosing a simple outfit for travelling. Sherlock was still asleep so he headed down to fetch them some morning tea. If it was still a day's travel, they would no doubt want an early start.

By the time he returned Sherlock was out of bed, fidgeting with his luggage. John set the mug of tea close to his hand and perched on the edge of the bed, sipping his own as he watched him.

Sherlock was careless with most all of his things, but books were expensive and delicate, and these he shuffled with care into order. As his finger traced over a medical journal, he remembered John's words about befriending a doctor and wanting to be educated. "Here," he said as he turned, holding out the fairly thin tome. For a moment, the omega simply stared at him, and then dropped his eyes to his offering. Patience was not something Sherlock possessed much of, and after a bit too long of this wide staring, he rolled his eyes and stomped forward with an annoyed sigh and dropped it in the man's lap.

John set his tea aside and carefully picked up the journal. He opened it to a random page and used his finger to trace the words. He didn’t understand a lot of it, but he could tell it was medical in nature. He was still looking at the book as there was a knock at the door, letting them know it was time to leave.

Within a few minutes they were back in the carriage. John kept puzzling over the book, trying to figure out what it was talking about. He was embarrassed to ask about the words he didn’t know, though he felt Mycroft watching both of them.

The alpha had to restrain himself from sighing again. It seemed pride was one thing his omega and he had in common. "Do not be ashamed to ask," he spoke to the window. "Be proud of yourself for being able to understand what you are able to without an education."

John bit his lip and leaned in to his alpha. “Can you help me?” He hoped maybe Sherlock would. Not like they had anything else to do on this trip.

"Yes," Sherlock replied simply, turning to look John in the eye. There was a faint flush across the tanned cheeks as his omega looked back down at his book, fingers tracing over the chicken-scratch. John's voice was a low, stuttering murmur as the carriage thumped over the ground, the passing of the landscape slowly fading from the alpha's senses as he sounded out and explained words his omega didn't know. For being entirely self-taught, as well as being an omega, John was remarkably intelligent, and being the one to help him along once again sparked the possessive warmth in his chest. He was so distracted by the fascinating being at his side, when something slammed into the side of the carriage and nearly rocked it to the ground, he was caught entirely by surprise.

John gasped as there was shouting outside and in a moment the doors were yanked open. Someone grabbed at him and he kicked them. The Holmes brother were fighting too and these robbers were quickly learning that this wasn’t as easy a target as they’d imagined. John kept his back to Sherlock. He was a scrappy fighter, omega or not, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to go down easy.

“Pretty little omega you’ve got there, noble,” a dirty alpha to his side growled, eyeing John lewdly as he licked his lips.

“Do I look like a noble?” Sherlock couldn’t help but snap back, possessiveness spiking.

“You look like a rich boy who needs a little liberating,” another alpha replied. “Especially of that unbonded omega. Looks like he could use a good fucking. A really good fucking. I’m sure me and the boys can deliver before we sell him if your cock ain’t up to the job. Little sluts still sell for a pretty penny, ‘s long as he ain’t got a bite on his neck.” The thought of any one of them, of _anyone_ , touching his John had him striking out, catching the robbers by surprise as he lashed out with knowledgeable accuracy.

John was surprised by the ferocity. He and Mycroft waded in a bit, but before long the handful of ruffians were either unconscious or being bound up. John had Sherlock sit on the edge of the carriage to attend his split lip. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “No one’s ever protected me before.” The warmth he was feeling towards his alpha was only growing. And it was a flame he would gladly throw himself into when the time came.

“You’re mine,” Sherlock snarled, wrapping a hand around the back of his omega’s neck and pulling him down for a harsh kiss, staking a more intimate claim. For a brief moment, there was no response and then palms pressed against his chest, trying to push him away. He snarled and tightened his grip, keeping John’s lips flush against his own as his anger led him to devour the sweet mouth.

Panic spiked down John’s spine. He knew this was Sherlock, knew this was his alpha, but after so long of being so careful, the aggression was nearly too much.

“Sherlock.” Mycroft’s steady voice finally broke through and Sherlock pulled away to growl at his brother. “There will be plenty of time for that later. For now though, we still need to get home.”

The alpha didn't want to let go. John belonged to him and the alphas around them had tried to take him. But one flare of his nostrils brought him the smell of fear, and he pulled hard on the reigns of his control. He tightened his grip on the back of the other man's neck and pulled, narrowing his eyes when John resisted. Finally, with a wary look, his omega took a tentative step forward and Sherlock wrapped his other arm around the sturdy waist, pulling them flush together as he dropped his nose to the scent gland below. His omega was tense in his arms as he simply breathed, taking the comforting scent in deep and letting it relax him muscle by muscle with the knowledge that he was Sherlock's and that no one would take his promised from him.

John took a deep breath himself, letting himself be comforted by his alpha’s scent. Gradually he relaxed as well. Sherlock wasn’t going hurt him. This was _his_ alpha. He was his omega. Sherlock only wanted to protect him and keep him safe. John buried his head against Sherlock’s chest, grounding himself in the man, memorizing this feeling, this scent in his nostrils. This was home, now. Here, with Sherlock. More of a home then he’d had in a long time.

**.oOo.**

For the remainder of the trip, Sherlock found himself unable to let his omega leave his side, even if it was only a few inches, and as such, kept an arm tight around his waist. The short form fit comfortably against his side, and after a few miles, John finally picked the book back up from the floor of the carriage where it had fallen, together, they continued to read. For the large part, they both also ignore Mycroft just across from them, who continued to shoot them glances between shuffles of parchment on his lap. When it grew too dark to read, John eventually fell asleep, cradling the book in his arms and curled against Sherlock, who finally looked at his brother.

“What,” the alpha said shortly, more demand than question.

“You have grown fond of your betrothed rather quickly,” there was no tone to the beta’s voice but still, the younger brother heard the deeply hidden reprimand.

“You should never have given me someone so interesting,” Sherlock replied easily.

**.oOo.**

The house they arrived at was huge. Easily the biggest place John had ever been inside. He soon learned that Sherlock had a smaller flat of his own and they went there after a rest in the big house.

The flat smelled purely of Sherlock and John found himself relaxing more there as he settled in. Sherlock brought him more books and Mycroft hired a patient tutor for the morning. As Sherlock went out on his investigations, John happily tagged along, helping where he could. And if this was Sherlock when he was less reckless he could only imagine his brother’s concern.

They shared his big bed, but there was nothing more than holding hands, soft kisses, and occasional scenting. Still as his heat approached, John found himself growing a bit nervous again. Sherlock was growing more possessive as the time came and he knew his alpha would pin him down to claim him. He’d feel the sting of teeth and the stretch of a knot. It both thrilled and terrified him to think of. But he wanted no one else but Sherlock.

Nearly a week into their relationship, the alpha woke feeling warm, his skin prickling and tight where it was stretched over his bones. His first instinct was to curl even tighter around his omega, only to find the man gone and the sheets where he had lain barely warmed. Sherlock’s instincts screamed to locate John, and he sprung from the bed and out the door, never even noticing the chill of flagstones under his bare feet. He found his missing other in the kitchen, staring about absentmindedly as he fixed himself a cup of tea. Before he could even turn around, the alpha was on him, pressing him to the counter with his hips, even as he plastered his taller form to the smaller back. The pressure against his already-aching cock made him growl as he bent his head to his omega’s neck, nipping and sucking at the skin between rumbles of “ _My John_.”

John moaned. His heat had just barely started. "Yours,” he assented, wondering if his first mating would be over the kitchen counter. "We going to the bedroom?"

“You should never have left,” Sherlock replied, bending to wrap an arm under his omega’s knees, hoisting him into the air and striding quickly back to his room. John made a surprised but happy sound, wrapping arms around the alpha’s neck as he leaned in for a breathless kiss. As they had gotten used to each other the last week, this had become long familiar, this holding and touching and kissing, but it had always been while clothed, and Sherlock yearned to feel John’s skin against his own. He was so eager for it, so distracted by the smooth slide of his omega’s tongue, that he hit his knee on the raised wooden frame holding his bed aloft and nearly threw John into the bed, himself tumbling after and on top of the other man.

John laughed and then moaned as Sherlock tugged impatiently at his clothes, devouring his mouth. His heart beat fast as his body reacted to the alpha, skin bared before a predator. Part of him wanted to hide, more of him wanted to offer himself.

"My alpha," he whispered, unsure what to do with his hands as he returned the kisses, feeling long, elegant fingers on his trousers.

"My omega," Sherlock whispered back, finally breaking away to remove the cloth blocking his way to the skin below. With a frustrated growl, the alpha sat back and removed both of their shirts and trousers, the scent of his omega's heat wafting up to him in sweet clouds that made his mouth water. Free from confines, John's knees fell open, revealing the glistening bud and Sherlock dove for it, pressing his tongue to the tight skin and swirling it around the rim until John was crying out and gripping his hair with both hands and pleading for more.

John’s eyes were screwed tightly shut. He never knew anything could feel this good. It was too much, it wasn’t enough. “God, Sherlock, fuck me, please. Knot me.” The alpha’s tongue found a spot that made his legs spread even wider and the grip on dark curls tighten. He whole body seemed to freeze as he felt the cusp of an orgasm.

The sound of John's breath hitching and the feeling of his grip tightening made Sherlock even more determined to bring his omega to peak with nothing more than his tongue. The muscle's movements were dexterous, and in no time, halted breathing was replaced with a sound that was half moan, half cry in his ears as the smooth passage around his tongue rippled with the force of John's orgasm. He continued his soft, gentle massage until his omega's thighs were trembling on either side of his head and mewls of overstimulation made his cock throb where it was pressed to the bed. Only then did he draw back, wiping slick from his face with a clean corner of the sheet before crawling up the bed and stretching out at Jon's side, pulling the man into his arms. "That should make the onset of your heat less taxing," he murmured into sweat-damp hair with a soft kiss.

Inhaling the wonderful scent of his alpha, John relaxed in his arms. “I’ve been worried about this,” he admitted. “Worried that I’d be what you need. You’re so amazing, Sherlock. That you would choose me… I don’t deserve it.”

“I think it would be fair to say that we have chosen each other,” Sherlock corrected, worrying the flesh of John’s neck between his teeth. “Do not be worried. The last thing I would ever do is bring harm to you. In fact, I dare say that you are more experienced in this than I am.”

“Not that much. Since I reached maturity I have been very careful." John offered his throat to him. He'd certainly never gone all the way with anyone. “There was a bit of touching when I was younger, but I have saved myself. Only for you.” Ever since he’d presented as omega, alphas had been pawing at him. A few had tried to buy him. But he knew his own value.

"Only for me," the alpha murmured, voice dark as he moved down his omega’s body, hands and tongue exploring. The darker skin was covered in in tiny little nicks and scars and burns, ones that detailed the extent of the abuse delivered unto John by his own father. But there were other marks, thick scars that told of great pain and infection. Like the one one his shoulder, a wide, deep scar with a thin-pointed exit scar on the back. “Who did this to you?”

Biting his lip, John snuggled against Sherlock’s chest. “An alpha. He didn’t like being told no. I think he only meant to frighten me. When he saw what he’d done he ran off. I thought I was a goner, but Sol - the Doctor - must have heard the commotion because he came ‘round the corner and saved me. He kept me through my next heat. Father thought I’d run away for good. But he was an omega himself.”

The rising possessiveness at the knowledge that one of John’s heat had been spent with another faded at the admittance that that other was another omega. His fingers continued to travel down the other young man’s body, stopping and tracing larger marks when he found them, doing so until John would answer his usually unspoken question. There were far more scars on his omega’s body than there should be, and while they incited protective rage within Sherlock, they also increased his fascination with his own mate, an omega so unlike the rest.

John sighed. “I know I’m not much to look at,” he said quietly. His heat was starting to rise again and he shifted, debating rolling onto his stomach, but instead going onto his back. “You’re beautiful. You’ve got amazing eyes. And you’re brilliant.” He smiled softly and parted his thighs, watching his alpha’s pupils dilate. John knew Sherlock would keep him safe. Not that he couldn’t take care of himself, but John was his mate, or would be soon enough. He hoped this time Sherlock would knot and bite him.

Sherlock quickly shifted between John’s legs, bending in half to press a kiss to the top of the omega’s once again leaking cock. He paused, tempted to lavish that delicious cock until his omega came again, but breathless pleas and threats for his cock and his knot had him smiling as he settled on his knees between John’s thighs. He pressed the mushroomed head against the loose, damp hole, rocking his hips forward and backwards in gentle motions, needing his entrance to be as gentle as it could be.

John groaned, feeling the stretch as his body produced more slick for his alpha. "God, yes, please," begged John, rocking his hips to meet his thrusts. Even though he couldn't yet feel his alpha’s knot, he bared his neck. He'd never needed anything as much as this.

As a first experience, sex was nearly overwhelming to Sherlock’s senses. The way John clenched tight around him and sucked him back in every time he tried to pull out. The scent of John’s slick and heat on the air around them. The taste of the skin over John’s scent gland on his tongue. The loud pants and soft pleas in his ears, both John’s and his own. The alpha’s fingers curled in the sheets, knowing that if he grasped hold of the soft body below him, he wouldn’t let go until it was covered in dark marks in the shapes of his fingers and hands. His knot was swelling at the base of his cock and it was becoming more and more difficult to thrust into the warmth of his omega.

Groaning, John felt full, nearly to bursting. Sherlock gave a hard shove and John came with a cry and a whimper, a moment before he felt teeth. He shook with the enormity of it all, pleasure spiked with pain as he nearly blacked out.

The alpha’s knot swelled inside his new mate as he came, John writhing endlessly beneath him. Sherlock’s teeth were deeply embedded in his neck, holding him in place as much as his cock and his knot were. There was a swelling in his chest, something blooming, searching. He could feel the same response from his mate under him, something entirely non-physical, binding them together permanently.

Moaning, John wrapped himself around his mate. "Sherlock," he breathed, still trembling. The teeth slowly released and he buried his face against the alpha's scent gland. _His_ alpha. He'd never felt so loved and secure. Sherlock's cock released a second wave of seed at his movement and he wrapped his arms tighter around his neck, tears stinging his eyes.

Sherlock nuzzled his new mark, licking at the bites, nearly purring in contentment. Slowly, the arms around his neck loosened and he rolled onto one elbow, still connected to his mate by his knot as he slid his other hand down his omega's chest to stroke his belly. "I can feel myself in you," he murmured, fascinated, exerting pressure with his palm as he thrust lightly, pleased beyond pleased at the faint bump of his own cock against his hand. Pleasure continued to trickle down his spine and out his cock as he continued the gentle movements of his hips, stroking his mate's belly. "You'll be full by the end of your heat." He managed to drag his eyes away from the span of his fingers over pale flesh to meet his mate's eyes.

John smiled warmly at his mate. “I’ll be happy to bear your children,” he said honestly. “I never imagined my life could ever be like this. You’re everything I never knew I wanted.” He raised a hand to cup Sherlock’s cheek.” John was feeling a bit drowsy, but happy for the first time in a very long time.

"Yes," the alpha breathed, rolling onto his back and pulling John up on to his chest, still connected. The new position had his omega moaning weakly as Sherlock cupped his hips, grinding his knot up into his omega's arse before stilling, easily shuffling the smaller form atop of him. Omegas were known to require a great deal of sleep between rounds of heat, and the alpha could feel the exhaustion pulling at his mate.

**.oOo.**

When John woke, it was to the smells of his favorite foods. He stretched and sat up, sore, even though he knew they were just getting started. Evidently, Sherlock had heard him stirring, because he came back into the bedroom with a mug of tea and a plate. “Thank you,” said John.

"You are welcome," he replied, handing him the dishes in order to occupy his omega's hands so that he could cup the tanned face and press their lips together in a soft kiss. Even when he pulled away, John's eyes remained closed and his face angled upwards, his breakfast forgotten in his hands. Slowly, Sherlock climbed up on the bed and curled around the back of his mate, stroking his spine. "You should eat before your heat returns," he suggested. And he could see the profile of a startled blink. "And then I want to watch you ride my knot." John, reaching out to place his tea on the side table, nearly dropped it, and a great deal of the mug's contents had been lost by the time it made contact with the surface of the table. Not that Sherlock would have minded, even if he wasn't distracted by the sudden spike in the scent of his mate's arousal.

Wolfing down his food, John tried not to think about Sherlock’s request. But it was everything he wanted. He glanced at his mate, biting his lip. “Can I pin your wrists while I ride you?” He wanted to take control, he realized. Something that, as an omega, he’d always had to fight for.

"Why would I not allow that?" Sherlock asked in return, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Most alphas wouldn’t want that. They wouldn’t want to give an omega control.” John set his plate aside and looked at his amazing alpha. “But I’d like to, with you.”

"Do as you wish," the alpha shrugged, reclining back on the bed, stretching out his lanky form and smirking at the way it attracted his mate's eyes."I have no experience, John, so if you do something I find I do not like, you will be the second to know."

“You’re not like any other alpha I’ve met,” said John, taking his time to admire his mate’s body. Unlike his own it was virtually unmarred and pale. He started by touching him, running his hands up his thighs and hips. His large cock was intimidating, but at least John knew he’d already been inside him once. Biting his lip again, he reached for the abandoned robe on the floor and pulled out the cloth belt, stradling Sherlock’s chest as he bound his wrists.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the unexpectedness, but dutifully raised his arms above his head, settling his hands on the pillows. John was staring down at him, licking his lips as he stroked his hands almost absently down the alpha's chest. After a moment, with a wary look up at Sherlock's face, his omega leaned down and swiped his tongue across his nipple. He jumped a bit at the unexpected wet and heat, and a fearful sort of look was darted his way. He arched his chest up, humming in encouragement as he undulated under his mate. It seemed John was in a mood to explore, the needs of his heat not yet risen to uncontrollable levels, and he was more than happy to indulge. Or rather, more than happy to let his mate indulge.

John slowly explored his mates chest with tongue and lips and teeth. His hands slid down to cup Sherlock’s slender hips, pinning him down as he dropped his head to lick along the slit of his alpha’s cock, earning a deep moan and the taste of precum on his tongue. A thrill went through his body and he groaned as a wave of heat washed over him. Still, he kept licking at the great cock in front of him, watching Sherlock’s face.

It was almost too much effort to remain still, to let that soft tongue lap curiously at the slit at the head of his cock. Every other lick was accompanied by a gentle huff of breath that never failed to slide a shiver down Sherlock's spine. He wanted to slide his fingers into the short strands, thrust up into the hot mouth, but he suspected that would be 'a bit not good'. So instead, he curled his fingers and his toes in the sheets and locked the muscles in his thighs against the slow burn of orgasm building in his spine. "John...." he growled warningly, slamming his eyes closed to stop the sight of his omega worshipping his cock with his gentle tongue and his closed eyes and his open face from quickening the onset of his orgasm. It didn't work. It was on his eyelids as if it had been painted there. Then calloused fingers caressed his mildly swollen knot and he nearly bit his tongue off.

“It’s okay,” said John, watching him battle for controll. He moved up, kissing each closed eyelid before taking a breath and lowering himself onto the alpha’s swollen cock. Sherlock was strung tight as a bow and he knew it wouldn’t take much at all for him reach his climax. Shifting his weight, John pinned his arms and shoulders with his body weight before he started to ride his beautiful cock.

The alpha wanted to grab hold of his omega's hips, help him along his cock, but all of John's weight was pressed into his biceps, keeping his bound hands pressed to the pillows. There was no give to grasp even John's hands, no way to ground himself from the ecstasy of that hot, wet passage sucking at and rippling around him. " _John..._ " he moaned, this time less a warning and more a plea.

“What do you want, love?” John thrilled at the feeling of power. And it felt so very, very good, driving himself further and further down his alpha’s cock with every thrust. He moaned, leaning in to nuzzle his mate’s throat.

"Unbind me," Sherlock gasped, straining his neck up into his omega's mouth and his hips up into his omega's arse. "Please let me help. Let me touch."

John’s heart raced in his chest as he loosened the bonds, wondering just how Sherlock would react to being freed.

The robe belt hadn't even been pulled from his wrists before Sherlock wrapping a hand around the back of his omega's neck, the soft end trailing against John's throat as the alpha pulled his mark to his lips. His other arm wrapped around the still-moving waist, holding tight and pulling his mate down into his harsh thrusts as he planted his feet for leverage. John being on top had allowed his omega the ability to more easily take his growing knot, but as he approached orgasm and his knot continued to swell and it became harder to force it past the tight rim, it helped to have the extra force of his tugging arm.

Groaning, John dropped himself hard on Sherlock's cock, crying out as the knot was forced inside, coming without a touch and feeling Sherlock respond with his teeth in his neck again and his seed pouring into him.

With every pulse of his cock, more of his seed flooded his mate, and the thought of filling his omega full only made the alpha's cock throb more, only made him come harder, made his teeth clamp harder. His mate's neck would look a mangled mess by the end of his heat, but as it would only further enforce Sherlock's ownership over him, he couldn't find it in himself to care. John was limp over and against him, making low sounds against his neck as the alpha's hips pumped slowly.

John groaned. He was so sore, and there was still at least one more day of heat. “Did you like that?” murmured John, wondering if his alpha had enjoyed himself.

“I did, yes,” he replied, with a nod as his knot relaxed. Sherlock slowly rolled John to the side, gathering him into his arms. “I think I may enjoy being able to touch you more, but I am not adverse to a repeat some time in the future. Perhaps your heat is not the best time to attempt your dominance of me. I enjoy it, but my need to dominate you may be too strong."

Nodding, John kissed him. “I like you dominating me,” he admitted. “I trust you. I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust you. Well, Doc, but that’s different. I never thought I’d get a good alpha. Always figured father would sell me off eventually, but I didn’t think it would turn out good.” He was starting to fade towards sleep again.

“Luckily he mated you off, rather than sold you,” Sherlock said, combing his fingers through John’s hair. “Luckier for me that he did so at all. As cruel as it was to do this to you, I can not regret that he did. I did not know how incomplete my life was without you in it.”

“My title is the only thing that saved me,” John said quietly. “My title and the knowledge that he could use me. I think he was much happier I presented omega then if I’d been alpha. Of course that was when my mother left.” He’d talked very little about his family and growing up, but it wasn’t important now, was it?

“You may have lost your mother, but I don’t believe you would have lived had you presented anything other than omega,” the alpha said, pressing a kiss to his mate’s forehead. “It may be something you resent, but I am appreciative of your biology.”

“I don’t know if I resent it, Sherlock. It’s just what’s dictated my life from the moment it happened.” John shrugged. “I feel very, very lucky to have you.”

"As you should," Sherlock replied imperiously. John blinked at him for a moment before breaking into giggles. The alpha's composure only lasted seconds longer before he joined his mate in quiet laughter. "I am lucky to have you, my prince."

John shook his head but settled comfortably in his mates arms.

**.oOo.**

By late the next afternoon, his heat had largely abated. He was lying on his back, drowsy. Sherlock lay with his head resting on his sternum as he stroked his tummy. John smiled softly, nearly purring with contentment. He shivered as Sherlock’s hand dipped a little lower and reached down to run his fingers through his hair.

It was absurd how fascinating this simple stretch of skin was to him. But in only a few short weeks, it would be swelling to accommodate the growth of their young. In just a few short months, Sherlock would be hovering anxiously over the midwife as they delivered their first child. His fingers began trailing lower, fluttering over the line of short, curly blond strands, softer than the ones on his mate's head. The soft cock nestled in their midst began to thicken slowly and he smiled, inhaling the scent of arousal from its source and smiling into the soft, scarred skin as he moved his fingers away from temptation. "You should rest," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the skin below his cheek.

“You aren’t helping. But all right love.” John yawned and reached down to take his mate's hand, so grateful for what they had, and so hopeful about the future.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please leave us a review, and don't forget to drop by tumblr to say 'hi' to [Mer](http://merindab.tumblr.com/) and [Kat](http://themadkatter13-fanfiction.tumblr.com/).


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